After spending four days camping out in a 700 acre field filled with inescapable weed smoke, dust and oppressive heat, me and Disco Dan, although smelling ripe, survived the musical experience they call Bonnaroo.

Aided by the communal safety net of my sister's cooking, we were able to enjoy the rural boondocks of Tennessee and engulf ourselves into a diverse world of music which, if uploaded onto an IPOD, would make us seem like masters of musical dexterity - British rock, Canadian pop, soul, bluegrass, reggae, jazz and alternative hip-hop along with jam-band stalwarts.

Among the sold-out audience of 80,000 people - mostly hippy hotties fighting for use of Porta Potties - there was tie-dye, long hair, peasant dresses and flowers, organic food stands, recycling displays, and a ferris wheel.

It was like a Patriots tailgate had sex with Woodstock.

We watched Borat in the cinema tent, played guitar video games on Xbox, saw fire eaters, breakdancers, did yoga, and did the running man at the Silent Disco - which is a dance party where everyone wears wireless headphones and hears the same DJ.

Dan and I, after downing a bag of cheap white wine, also tested our pitching arms in the MLB tent. Both of us couldn't break 65. Not bad for being tipsy.

The sheer volume of the stimuli was overwhelming and exhausting, the musical highlight of the excursion was seeing the reunited trio of virtuosos called The Police.

Watching fireworks erupt above me as Sting's undiminished voice sang about "a little black spot on the sun today" was pop culture in motion and right up there with seeing Bono and Frank Sinatra

The low point or weird point of the journey was when my sister awoke me from a sound sleep in my tent at four in the morning because an acid-tripping pervert was jerking off near our site.

He was gone by the time I me and Dan could emerge from our temporary residences, otherwise his skin flute would have been amputated and sold like the various vagrants of drug dealers that invaded our site on a nightly basis.

Bonnaroo was like a small country full of shirtless and braless music buffs who smoked so much grass that they have to have their stomach mowed once a day.

We exited the festival dirtier than a sumo wrestler's bellybutton and burnt like a BBQ potato chip and it probably is only something we could do once but we had a blast and the memories will live on

From Dan:Well Josh summed up pretty accurately and a lot funnier than I could hope to. Overall, despite the searing heat and filthiness of it all, it was a great time. I definitely haven't ever experienced anything else like it, from going to sleep exhausted every night in a giant field to the sounds of blasting music, to seeing one awesome live band after another. The people watching alone was crazy, trust me allll sorts of characters come out of the wood work for an event like this! Right now we are in Atlanta and aftger watching the Red Sox play for the last two nights (and win tonight, awwww yeah), we are heading off to Birmingham to see yet another band in Birmingham AL.